Authors: Linda Warren,Marin Thomas,Jacqueline Diamond,Leigh Duncan
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Series, #Harlequin American Romance
“And they bounce off structures inside me to produce an image,” she finished. Sonography was used in many types of medical diagnosis, as Anya was well aware.
“Structures,” he repeated as he laid the paddle on her tummy. “Otherwise known as the baby.” His intake of breath belied his clinical tone.
On the monitor, gray tones shifted and seethed. For all Anya could tell, the darker shapes might be her kidneys or her bladder—oops, better not think about that, with the device pressing down right there.
Then she saw, unmistakably, a tiny backbone visible through the fetus’s nearly translucent skin. The paddle moved, and into view came a beating heart, the rhythm faster than an adult’s. As Jack adjusted the paddle, she discerned the shape of a curled baby, from its head to its rump, arms and legs moving.
“She’s wiggling,” she said, astonished even though she should have expected this. “A lot. I can’t feel her yet.”
“That’s because she’s only about two inches long. She has plenty of room for gymnastics.” On the equipment, Jack flipped a switch and the rushing, thumping sound of a heartbeat engulfed the room.
A glow filled Anya, a miraculous sense of the person inside her—those fingers and toes already formed. Tiny eyes stared about almost as if the baby could see her parents.
Jack drew in a ragged breath. “This is unbelievable. I’ve watched a lot of ultrasounds and delivered a lot of babies. But this is different. It’s our daughter.”
Pulling her gaze from the screen, Anya noticed tears misting his eyes. He became blurry until she blinked and cleared her own tears.
She’d been fighting this connection for months, and now it nearly overwhelmed her. When the baby twitched, Anya could have sworn she made out a tiny nose shaped like her own.
She’d never understood how women could swear that once they held their baby, they almost immediately forgot the anguish of childbearing. Now, though, she teetered on the edge of forgetting the pain, not of childbearing but of child-rearing.
Endless piles of diapers, uncounted bottles to warm, cries in the night driving sleep to oblivion as each baby woke up her sisters. But Anya wasn’t carrying triplets as her mother had. This was a single small girl.
Jack swallowed. “Look at her. She’s really there, Anya. Our daughter.”
Your daughter.
She meant to say that aloud, but the words caught in her throat.
She’s my daughter, too.
The door flew open. Startled, Anya realized she’d forgotten they were expecting company.
With a swish of fabric, a flood of exotic perfume and a flash of color, a dark-haired woman swept into the room. Tall and slim, she had spiky short hair and sharp eyes. Brilliant blocks of red, yellow and green marked her long halter dress.
As Jack switched off the Doppler sound of the baby’s heartbeat, Anya stared at the apparition who’d just joined them.
“I’m here! We can start now.” Her gleaming smile encompassed them both in the greeting.
Mamie Ryder had arrived.
Chapter Fifteen
Jack’s first response, to his astonishment, was irritation. Did his mother have to arrive
now?
This was his and Anya’s private moment, their first meeting with their daughter. He’d seen Anya’s resistance melting and her heart opening. Couldn’t Mamie have given them a few more minutes?
Grudgingly, he bit down on his reaction. “Mamie,” he greeted her—even when he was small, she’d preferred he use her name because “Mommy” made her feel old. “I’d give you a hug, but...” He lifted the paddle.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” she sang out. “Sorry I’m late. We hit a ridiculous amount of traffic.”
“Not that much,” Rod observed, entering behind her, his fedora slightly askew as if he’d run from the parking garage. “We were late leaving the hotel.”
“All that packing.” Mamie smiled at Anya. “This must be the new mommy. Hi. I’m Mamie.”
“Nice to meet you.” True to form, Anya wasted no words.
When her attention flicked to Rod, Jack recalled his promise. He zeroed in on his uncle. “Thanks for driving and for waiting outside.”
Rod’s mouth opened and promptly shut. “It
is
a bit crowded in here. I’ll be out there playing with my phone.”
That had been easy. Perhaps chauffeuring Mamie had proved trying. Jack spared no sympathy for his uncle, considering that it had been Rod’s idea to invite her.
All the same, he appreciated that his mother had made the trip to Southern California.
Despite being in her early fifties, she struck him as ageless. Only twenty-one when he was born, she’d been a youthful mom, full of energy and vitality. In absentia, Mamie might inspire disappointment or even resentment, but in person, she was a force of nature.
Jack indicated the screen. “There she is. Our little girl.”
Setting down her shopping bag, Mamie advanced toward the monitor. “My goodness.” She frowned. “Are you sure it’s a girl?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Then what’s that?” She indicated something poking from between the baby’s legs.
“It’s the umbilical cord.” He moved the paddle to show a better angle.
“Oh. I see!” She searched for another comment. “Have you picked a name?”
“No.” Jack doubted that Junior-ette qualified.
“My mother’s name was Lenore,” Mamie reminded him. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It is.” Jack became aware of Anya taking in this scene with a puzzled expression. He, too, was wondering when his mother would show the sense of wonder he and Anya had felt when they first glimpsed their child.
She will. Give her time.
“What was your pregnancy like?” Anya asked. “With Jack, I mean.”
“In what respect?”
Anya rephrased the question. “Was it complicated? Or did it go smoothly?”
Mamie blinked. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten. Honestly, my late husband was much more excited than I was.”
Jolted, Jack stood there numbly. Did his mother have any idea what she’d just revealed?
“Well, you did a good job.” Anya deserved credit for filling the pause before it could lengthen uncomfortably.
“Oh, I’m very proud of my son.” Mamie’s smile lacked warmth, as if she were reciting a line she’d rehearsed.
To Jack, this encounter was both disconcerting and disconnected. His mother had traveled thousands of miles for this, yet her fidgety body language implied an eagerness to leave.
Achingly, he realized he’d hoped for much more—that, as a mature adult, he could finally perceive the deep well of love that he’d missed when he was younger. At some level, he’d believed his mother’s drive and dedication had torn her away from him but that the delight of meeting her granddaughter would reveal how much she cared.
He should have known better. Anger flared at himself for being gullible.
Mamie cleared her throat. “Do you have a nanny lined up?”
Anya gave a start. “No, we aren’t...not yet.”
“Don’t wait till the last minute. I hear good nannies are hard to find,” his mother advised.
“Thanks for the tip.” Was Anya being ironic? Jack couldn’t tell. And he had to rely on her, of all people, to keep the conversational ball rolling while he collected his thoughts. To his gratitude, she did. “That’s a gorgeous dress.”
Mamie whirled, showing off the striking design. “It’s from Haiti, of course. So are the sandals.” She lifted her feet to reveal strappy shoes that, to Jack, appeared to have soles shaped from recycled tires. “I only buy clothes made by the poor. They’re so desperate! You should see the conditions they live under. As a mother, your heart would break for their children.”
“I’m sure it would,” Anya agreed.
“That reminds me. I brought a gift for the baby.” From her shopping bag she pulled a large, angular metal construction. It was a lizard with a blue head and tail, orange legs and a green and yellow pattern on its body. “I’d have wrapped it, but they’d never have let it through airport security.”
Anya waved her hand. “Just more paper to put in the recycle bin.”
“Exactly!” Mamie beamed. “It’s made out of old oil drums. Isn’t it gorgeous? Look at the artistry. It’s a gecko, by the way.”
“Very cheerful,” Anya said. “It’ll be stunning on the wall.”
That was diplomatic of her, considering that she planned to give up the baby. He’d relayed that to his mother when he’d phoned to discuss her visit, but apparently the information hadn’t sunk in. Or she’d chosen to ignore it. The conversation had been a little strained, as if she were trying to say the right things but wasn’t sure what those were. Jack had tried to be encouraging, despite his qualms.
“I suppose it is a bit large to put in the crib.” Mamie held the gecko at arm’s length, studying it. “You might hang it overhead, though, to stimulate Lenore’s imagination.”
With those sharp edges and possibly toxic paints? Clearly his mother hadn’t wrapped her head around the idea of a baby. But she’d meant well.
“Jack, how about some screen shots of, uh, Lenore?” Anya prompted. “I’ll bet your mother would like to take one with her.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll show them off to my friends in Haiti.” Returning the sculpture to the bag, Mamie rubbed her hands together. “They’re thrilled that I’m going to be a grandmother.”
As Jack adjusted the paddle and clicked to save a picture, he processed the fact that Mamie had spread the word about her grandchild despite his warning that they were considering putting her up for adoption. If Mamie were a doting grandma, it might be understandable, but he had the troubling sense that the baby appealed to her primarily as a way to show off to her friends.
Don’t be judgmental.
But he was still trying to absorb the statement that she hadn’t been thrilled about her own pregnancy, about having him.
As he worked, Anya asked about the press conference, and Mamie waxed eloquent. “We must attract more businesses to revitalize the economy. Did you know Haiti is the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere? Unemployment is sixty to eighty percent. Just a few years ago, the island was devastated by an earthquake. Two years later, half a million people were still living in tents.”
She cited shocking statistics about diseases and further damage from a hurricane. Passion blazed from Mamie’s face.
Jack felt guilty. The work she was doing mattered to a lot of people. Still, she was the only mother he’d ever have. And today she’d reopened a wound that ran soul-deep.
With a knock, Rod returned to tell them that it was time to leave for the airport. Jack was sure that news came as a relief to everyone.
When Rod and Mamie were gone, the room suddenly felt peaceful. “Huh,” Anya said.
After switching off the machine, Jack wiped the gel from her stomach. “My mother’s an original, isn’t she?”
“Are you okay?” She watched him sympathetically.
He nearly answered with an automatic yes, but that wasn’t true. “I felt like we were actors in a stage play,” he said as he helped Anya sit up. “Everything about that scene with my mother rang false. What did I miss? Am I that out of touch?”
Outside in the hallway, voices murmured as Ned escorted a patient past. “We should go somewhere else,” Anya said.
“Good idea.” Jack’s phone hummed in his pocket. “Excuse me.” Plucking it out, he read an unfamiliar number. Cautiously, he answered. “Dr. Ryder.”
“Jack? Are you still at the hospital?” It was a man’s voice.
“Right next door,” he said.
“It’s Zack Sargent. Thank goodness I caught you.”
Jack was glad to deal with a professional matter. “What’s up?”
“I’m scheduled to perform an embryo transplant but I must have caught my daughter’s stomach flu because I just threw up.” Zack
did
sound shaky. “I can’t expose the patient to this. The embryos are already thawed. Owen thought you might still be on the premises.”
“Yes. I’d be happy to step in.” A potential conflict occurred to Jack. “Who’s the patient?”
“It’s Melissa Everhart,” Zack told him. “I know you’re acquainted with her personally but I’ve cleared it with her.”
“In that case, how quickly do you need me there?” Given that the embryos were thawed, it was important to proceed at once, but Jack hoped he could spend a few minutes with Anya first, to clarify his feelings about Mamie.
“She’s prepped now.”
After getting the details about where to report, Jack signed off.
“Emergency?” asked Anya, who’d dressed while he was talking.
Although Melissa would no doubt fill her in later, that was the patient’s choice. So Jack merely said, “I’m afraid so. But I’d like to meet you later.” Another problem occurred to him. “And I still have to shop for dinner. I suppose I could throw together some kind of pasta dish.”
“I could do the shopping,” Anya said. “What’s on the menu?”
“I was going to spring for salmon if my mother decided to delay her flight.” What an optimistic idiot he’d been to imagine her doing such a thing. “I have a favorite recipe I got from a medical school colleague.”
“Tell me what to buy.” Anya raised a finger. “Wait. There’s no reason for you to cook for my housemates tonight. We could eat at your place.”
“Great idea.” And that would make the salmon more affordable, too. “Save the bill and I’ll pay you back. No arguments.” From memory, Jack listed the ingredients for the meal and gave her a key from his ring. “I don’t want you standing outside with the groceries.”
“I’ll be alone in your apartment?” She grinned mischievously. “Could I leave a rubber spider in Rod’s bed?”
“How will you know which room’s his?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Honestly. You guys do smell different.”
“Too much information.” He assumed she was kidding about the spider anyway.
“I’ll put the equipment away.” She indicated the rolling cart beneath the sonograph machine, which Ned Norwalk had fetched earlier from a hall closet.
“Thanks. See you soon.”
Heading out, Jack fixed his mind on the procedure ahead, reviewing the necessary steps. No surgery was required; for the patient, an embryo transfer felt much like a Pap smear.
The procedure involved the use of ultrasound to aid his manipulation of the catheter loaded with the embryos. The angle of the catheter was vital, both for the patient’s safety and for proper placement.
Before he knew it, he was climbing the stairs to the second floor. For now, everything that had happened—seeing his daughter, encountering his mother, striving to understand his mixed emotions—could remain safely tucked away.
* * *
H
OLDING
THE
GROCERY
sack in one arm, Anya let herself into Jack’s apartment. From outside, she lifted Mamie’s gift bag and set it beneath a small table, atop which she placed the key.
Despite having lived around the corner from Jack for a year, she’d never ventured into his apartment until now. The living room was about the same size as the one she and Zora had shared, although the kitchen and hallway layouts were flipped. The place smelled of lemon oil and cleanser—a cleaning service must have visited recently—and the furniture included a cherrywood entertainment center and a tan curved sofa. Because Anya had expected a pair of bachelors on tight budgets to buy minimalist gear, she wondered if Rod’s ex-wife had left these behind.
She was laying out her purchases on the kitchen counter when she heard the front door swing open. Instantly she recognized Jack’s footsteps.
“Hi.” His mood seemed upbeat as he regarded her. Performing the procedure—something to do with fertilization, she gathered—must have invigorated him. “Find everything okay?”
“I hope I got the right kind of apricot preserves.” Anya indicated the jar. “And I bought the refrigerated horseradish. I think it’s stronger than the other kind.”
“Sounds perfect.” He whipped a pair of aprons from a drawer, brushing past her with a rush of lime scent mixed with disinfectant. “You mind fixing the salad?”
“My specialty.”
The kitchen was organized with surgical precision, with none of the messy jumbles that Anya recalled from the few other bachelor pads she’d visited over the years. As they cooked side by side, they kept the conversation light, instinctively delaying the emotional topics that thrummed beneath the surface.
Jack reported that the procedure had gone smoothly without providing details. And Anya explained that she’d texted Karen, who’d assured her the household could assemble dinner from the leftovers cramming the fridge.
“Cooking for everybody was a big job. You were astonishing,” she told Jack as she sliced tomatoes.
“I’ve enjoyed it.”
Now that she’d raised the topic, Anya braced for him to mention the reason for his cooking. She could hardly refuse him custody of the baby after all this. That meant she’d have to leave Safe Harbor, and him, and her friends, unless she planned to be intimately involved in raising her child. At the prospect, the light seemed to drain from the room. What a bleak prospect: losing this family of friends and especially Jack. How was she going to bear that? Thinking about a future without him was much too painful.
“Did you buy a plastic spider?”
“What?” The question jerked Anya back to the moment.